Evasion
by Nika Dixon
Summary: As Jennifer and Teyla are held for ransom, the team struggles to find them before it's too late. R/K, J/T - NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note** - Okay I'm getting back to basic's here with a little suspense/mystery, and going on the assumption on an established Jen/Ronon and John/Teyla. :) First two chapters are here with more to follow ASAP! :) And yes, I'll post quickly - as always! - Nika_

* * *

"I will _not_ calm down!" John Sheppard's voice carried with such ferocity, the crew in the control room visibly winced as they tried not to get caught watching him through the closed glass doors of Woolsey's office.

And John didn't care. He didn't care who saw. He didn't care who heard. Because right now, at this exact moment, he was seconds from throwing everything away – his career, his future, his home on Atlantis – all to save her. To save them both. Disobeying a direct order to rescue his people. He'd done it before. He'd do it again. And nothing was going to stand in his way.

"Two…" He spat. "Two, of my team members are being held captive and you're trying to tell me to calm down?"

"Well, actually, only one is your team member." Woolsey started, immediately cut off again as John continued his tirade.

"Are you going to argue with me over semantics?" John was incredulous.

"I was merely pointing out that Dr. Keller is technically not on your team. Teyla Emmagen is. So the correct-"

"Fine! _One_ of my team members _and_ the CMO of the expedition are being held captive! Does that make it all better in your manual of diplomatic bullshit?"

John spun on his heel, taking two quick strides to the side, pacing a furious path across the area in front of what used to be Elizabeth's desk. Elizabeth would never have questioned his demand for rescue. And Sam… Sam would have been right there with him in the jumper. But not Woolsey. Oh no. The man wasn't going to be happy until every member of the damn expedition signed a permission slip before being captured or killed.

John fought to block out every nightmarish vision of what could be happening to Teyla… and to Jennifer… Every bad thing he'd ever seen, read, heard about, pictured, or could possibly think of was flashing through his mind. Two beautiful women and enemy soldiers. Images of torture, rape, beatings, blood, death… he couldn't stop them from coming. His mind was trying to reason that he was over-reacting. His gut was telling him he was right and time was running out.

John stopped his pacing abruptly and shook the visions away, his eyes locked on the floor of the gate room.

He could literally feel the tension radiating off Ronon as he watched the Satedan's pacing. Striding back and forth in front of the Stargate, spinning his gun around and around, dropping it into the holster and pulling it back out again. Spin. Drop. Pull. Spin. Drop. Pull. John knew the only thing stopping Ronon from going after Jennifer was John's request. And even then, he wasn't sure how much longer Ronon's rapidly sapping patience would hold before someone got hurt. Hell, he wasn't sure how long _he_ was going to last before someone got hurt.

John felt his own anger and frustration surging as he spun towards Woolsey.

"Forty eight hours." John spat, the frustration of inactivity washing over him and flowing out without stopping. His voice climbing in volume and pitch as he ranted. "Forty eight hours of god-knows-what happening to them! This was supposed to be a trade mission. And why the hell did it take you so long to get back here?"

"I was negotiating for their release."

"And apparently _that_ worked well…"

John spun towards the door, spun back around towards Woolsey, then turned back to the door again.

He didn't know whether or he wanted to hit Woolsey, punch a wall, shout, scream, or shoot someone.

He _knew_ the instant the call came over the radio it wasn't good news. The twisting in his abdomen that came with years of surviving on a gut feeling. There was something very, very wrong. He'd been feeling anxious since early yesterday. He should have listened to his instincts.

This time – this time he heard his inner voice loud and clear.

Before he even reached Woolsey's office he sent McKay to prep a Jumper.

Ordered Evan and his team into standby.

And told Ronon to gear up.

A waste of time, actually, since the Satedan had been following him around for the past twenty four hours, armed and agitated about something _he_ couldn't explain either.

"What exactly do they want?"

"Weapons." Woolsey sighed. "Of course."

"And you were _negotiating_ with them?" John's voice reached dangerously low tones.

"I was _trying_ to keep our people alive by leaving the doors of communication open." Woolsey sank into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. "They were arrested within hours of our arrival. The Valian Overseer cited some type of standard law that prevented women from carrying concealed weapons of any kind. There wasn't much I could do while we were being herded about by several armed guards. It was all over rather quickly, once they'd discovered Ms. Emmagen's boot knife."

"But what about Jennifer? Why would they arrest her? She doesn't carry any weapons, concealed or otherwise!"

"Dr. Keller _was_ technically carrying knives on her person." Woolsey angled his head.

"A scalpel is not a knife." John spat.

"Colonel," Woolsey frowned. "You and I are both aware of the technical uses of a scalpel. However the Valian law clearly states-"

"I don't give a rats ass what it states." John clenched his fists, his fingers digging sharply into his palms. "I want them released… unharmed."

"Which is precisely what I've been trying to accomplish for the past two days."

"When's the last time you saw them?"

Woolsey hesitated.

"You haven't seen them… have you." John leaned closer.

"No." He finally answered. "Not since they were taken away."

"Damn it! Why the hell didn't you contact us sooner!"

"I don't appreciate your tone, Colonel. I was prevented from leaving." Woolsey shook his head. "Our check-in time was not missed, and therefore additional gate contact was not required. I had no way of informing anyone of our situation until now. May I remind you that it was _your_ Military team which deemed the planet safe and its people harmless and otherwise ripe for trade negotiations."

"Yeah well, remind me to reprimand myself later. Right now we have people to rescue."

"I was only returned after Overseer Bolan hinted at his true intentions. He would accept terms for their immediate release if we would be gracious enough to gift them with P90's, revolvers and sufficient ammunition to aid in their containment of what he called a minor inconvenience with some of the local villagers."

"P90's aren't used for mere inconveniences."

"I would tend to agree."

"It's blackmail. Pure and simple. Tell them we don't negotiate with blackmailers, and if they don't release Teyla and Keller they'll be on the receiving end of that list of weapons."

Woolsey sighed.

"There's more isn't there?" John prompted, threading his arms tightly across his chest.

"If I… we… return without the weapons…" Woolsey inhaled slowly, then exhaled. "Overseer Bolan will not guarantee the safety of our people any longer. They will lose his… ah… personal protection. Whatever that means."

"That means they're in deep shit if we don't get our asses in gear." John said furiously. "Do we know where they're being held?"

"All I was able to determine is they were taken to a facility outside the city."

"Well that narrows it down." John muttered sarcastically. "We can have Rodney adjust the scanners the minute we're through. Hopefully he can pick up their transmitters."

Woolsey shook his head. "We can not return through the gate unless we come bearing gifts."

"We'll cloak the jumper."

"I thought the jumper couldn't be cloaked until it was all the way through?" Woolsey asked. "They are watching the gate, waiting for me to return, with supplies in tow. Any show of force could put our people in further jeopardy."

"How much time do we have?"

"Twenty four…" He looked at his watch. "Twenty _three_ hours and forty minutes."

John nodded. "Okay. We'll need a plan B. Or, in this case, Plan M."

"M?"

"M as in McKay." He spun on his heel, opened the door and moved quickly across the platform towards the stairs.

"Colonel!" Woolsey called behind him.

John glanced over his shoulder to where Woolsey was standing in the opening of his office.

"Try not to make _too_ much of a mess?" Woolsey called.

John let a slow, purposeful sneer show as he jogged past Ronon, who fell in beside him.

"Now?" Ronon growled.

"Now." John answered.


	2. Chapter 2

Ronon had no room to pace.

He settled for controlled breathing.

Crouched on the edge of the seat, he leaned forward as the jumper dropped and began it's rotation towards the gate. Sheppard punched the address into the DHD and the event horizon stabilized into liquid blue. The gate on Vale was not an option so they were skipping to a nearby space gate, then making the seven hour trip to the planet.

Seven hours.

Too long.

Too much time.

But it was all they had.

No one spoke as they moved forward.

The tension level inside the jumper was furious and fixated. Sheppard, Lorne, McKay and Ronon filled the front half. Add in Evan's team, extra boxes of ammo, a case of C4 and a two RPG's in the back half, and you had a metal can of full of just-give-me-a-reason.

And Ronon really, really hoped someone gave him a reason.

Because right now he wasn't even set to stun.

Something was very, very wrong. He'd known it since they'd returned from MX2-152. At that point, Jennifer had only been gone for a couple of hours.

Then yesterday morning, the feeling that she needed him settled into the pit of his stomach and he couldn't shake it. Sheppard's agitation level was just as high so Ronon chose to ride it out – and stick with the Colonel. If they needed to leave, he was damn well going to be ready.

Then when he'd heard from Sheppard exactly _where_ Jennifer was, he really had to fight the beast inside him that wanted to turn around and pound the hell out of Woolsey for leaving the planet without them. Without her. Ronon saw the look of guarded understanding on Sheppard's face, and the worry his friend was trying not to show. The way John kept flexing his fingers next to the hilt of his gun killed any thoughts Ronon had that he was overreacting.

And now – now he knew there was no overacting.

She did need him.

He willed a silent message to Jennifer to hang on. To Teyla. He was coming. _They_ were coming.

* * *

They landed under the cover of darkness, after spending time observing the layout and movement of a reasonably large village south of the main city. It was an interesting twist in strategy having a cloaked ship. Hovering above your target, unobserved, certainly made observation and planning a hell of a lot easier.

The sensors were picking up life-signs clustered across the lower plateau near the gate, and a massive blip which indicated the central city. There were no transmitter signals, which drew a moment of silent concern inside the jumper, until McKay pointed out three perfectly square areas, several miles in diameter outside the city. Each large chunk of land contained absolutely no life signs within the perfectly lined borders. Unusual in itself, but with the addition of a surging power source in the vicinity, made the situation far more than coincidental, and everyone agreed.

It would be their second stop.

But First, Sheppard wanted to stop in one of the outlying villages. Gather intel. They wouldn't be welcome inside the capital city… that much was certain. But they _might_ be welcomed inside the villages.

Ronon liked Sheppard's quote about the enemy of your enemy being your friend. It was appropriate, and in this case, a solid strategy. If these villagers were already involved in a war with the Vales, then perhaps they'd be more forward with the information on how to get Jennifer and Teyla back.

Since moving into the village with a group of heavily armed Marines would probably be seen as a sign of hostility, Ronon accompanied Sheppard alone. The others remained with the cloaked jumper, keeping in radio contact, ready to fly in and retrieve them should anything go wrong.

They moved quickly through the forest from the landing site to the village, slowing to take the road, walking without hurried speed. Ronon knew John was just as agitated, but they both did their best to show a casual purpose.

SGA-4's report on the main city told of multi floored buildings and paved roads, reasonably advanced power and technology and a friendly and polite populace. But this village was old and crumbling, and from what Ronon could see in the torch light, the city dwellers didn't share their good fortune with the outlying villages. Definitely cause for distrust. If only SGA-4 had taken time to explore a little deeper. People who ignored their immediate neighbors couldn't be trusted to trade with integrity.

The pair of sentries they encountered on the edge of the town acted with bravado, but Ronon knew Sheppard let them get away with being pushy. He could have dropped both men before they even thought about moving their rifles from their cradled position. John quickly talked them into a pass to the tavern, announcing themselves as thirsty travelers from another world. Because they were only two, and strangers to the planet, the sentries let them go, with a warning to avoid the main city, who's lights could be seen tinting the sky in the distance. John accepted the warning with concern, hesitating before walking away.

"Say." John turned back towards the two young men. "These Vales… we've been looking for a couple friends of ours who might have actually gone to the city. We haven't heard from them in a couple of days. Anything we should be concerned about?"

The two men exchanged glances.

"Are your friends from your world as well?" The taller of the two asked.

"Yes." Ronon leaned closer, tension filling his chest. "Is that a problem?"

"Depends." The second man answered. "What?" he frowned at his friend, who nudged him with a frown.

"Depends on what?" John stepped closer. "Look, we're really worried about them. Anything you can tell us would be… appreciated."

The tall man sighed. "Are your friends men… or women?"

"Why's that important?" Ronon growled.

"Women." John answered.

The two men shared another knowing glance.

"What!" The exasperation in John's voice came through louder than he intended. He sighed. "Look. If you know something…?"

"Okay, look." The shorter man glanced quickly around, as though to make sure there was no one else around. He leaned closer, his voice low, bringing all four heads lower. "We don't know for sure, but we've had a few travelers… like yourselves… passing through the Ring… and all of them heading to the city. When they return… they're escorted by the Valian Guard… and um… without the women. The Guard sees them back through the ring to wherever they came from I guess. Some return within a day or two with large shipments and boxes, others don't come back."

"And what is in these boxes?" John's eyes narrowed.

"Don't know." The taller man shrugged. "But the men who bring the boxes…" he cleared his throat, looked quickly over his shoulder, then dropped his voice low. "The men who bring the boxes through never return."

"Where do they go?"

Both men shrugged.

"And the women?" Ronon asked, his mind quickly connecting the blackmail and possible execution of the messengers. He banished the thought that the bait – the women - would be harmed once the goods were delivered. Banished the thoughts and buried them. Emotions would cloud his judgment and slow his reflexes. He needed clarity. He needed concentration. He needed her.

Both of the village men shrugged again, answering Ronon's question. "We've heard… tales… of a camp outside the city. Somewhere to the East." The taller man pointed over John's shoulder. "But no one who's ever set out to find it ever comes back."

Ronon and John exchanged glances, their suspicions on the mysterious dead areas outside the city now confirmed.

"Vales are not to be trusted." The second man added. "No matter what they promise you in return. You have only to look at the lights and power of their city, their excessive ways, to know this. Go home. You can not help your women."

"And what about _your_ women?" Ronon asked.

The tall man smiled grimly. "Our women are not allowed out of the villages."

"Hell of a lifestyle." John muttered.

"It is better than the alternative." The man shrugged, then glanced over his shoulder into the poor village. "They do not seem interested in what we would have to offer anyway, other than to demand half our crops in payment for letting us live on their land. It is the travelers from the gate who draw their attention in other ways."

"If your friends are missing," the shorter man said solemnly. "I suggest you mourn your losses and move on, before you find yourselves dead and buried beneath a Cosh tree."

Both villagers nodded in agreement before stepping away, returning their rifles to their cradled position and resuming their walk around the perimeter of the city.

"Not a chance." Ronon growled, running with John as he moved quickly through the trees, back in the direction of the jumper.


	3. Chapter 3

The dark and silence of the forest centered Ronon. He channeled the energy of the planet's surface into a controlled ball, and used it to push himself through the dense undergrowth towards the edge of the dark area. He followed behind the group, his eyes and ears trained on their surroundings.

Sheppard and McKay led the way, Rodney's tablet providing the direction and location of their target. They'd landed in a clearing within a couple of clicks of the edge of the dark zone, and reached it quickly.

"What _is_ that sound?" Evan wondered aloud, bringing to focus the dull hum they'd all noticed few moments back. The volume increased as they climbed to the top of a small rise.

"That." Rodney lowered his tablet and pointed down the other side of the hill.

Evan stopped beside Sheppard and McKay, eyes focused on something down the other side.

The others spread out beside him, staring at the fence line in front of them. Large metallic posts, spaced evenly every twenty feet, towered several feet above their heads. Each post supported long, thin horizontal threads. The fence stretched out and disappeared into the distance along both sides. Glowing a pale, muted blue, it cast long pale shadows around the surrounding plant life. With Rodney's shrug of approval, they approached cautiously, stopping a few feet from the pulsing blockade.

"That's our power source… or rather, it's connected to it." He glanced down at his tablet. "Definitely what's interfering with our sensors. If they're in there, we won't be able to see them. Don't touch it!" He snapped at Lieutenant Edison, who was reaching towards one of the thin, glowing strands. "What part about _power source_ did you not understand? Do you _want_ to get baked?"

"Baked?" John raised an eyebrow.

Rodney searched the ground, stooping to pick up a medium sized branch. With a flick of his wrist he tossed it at the fence. The branch sizzled sharply in a colorful spray of sparks then fell to the ground, charred and smoldering.

"Baked." Rodney jabbed his index finger towards the stick.

"You throw like a girl." Ronon muttered.

Rodney rolled his eyes.

"So how do we get around it?" John looked left then right down the length of the fence.

Rodney made some calculations on his tablet, oblivious to the movement of the men around him. "If we could find the source of the power… I could disable it… but without sensors we could be walking around for a while." He paused and made some more calculations, jabbing the screen with his index finger. "I did notice a stronger reading between the three sections, possibly a central station powering all three areas, but it was miles north. Although… if we could interrupt the flow of power, it might cause an overload and short out the fence along the back side. But that could also set of alarms and bring the…"

Rodney looked up to discover himself alone on the wrong side of the fence, and six pairs of eyes staring back at him in amusement.

"What the… how did you… you can't… it's just… I…"

"Tree." Ronon pointed to the left, then up at the massive branch hanging over their heads, and over the fence. With a smirk he spun around and headed off into the darkness.

"Come on, McKay. Up and over." John called over his shoulder as he turned to follow Ronon. "Time's a-wasting."

"Do I look like a monkey?!" Rodney called out, exasperated. He stared at the tree, and the branch dangling high above his head.

"I hate you." He muttered, tucking his tablet in behind his back. "I hate you all… Stupid… tree-climbing… outdoorsy types…" He hauled himself up into the branches. "Don't worry!" He called out after them. "I'm fine! No need to stick around and help the scientist or anything!"

"Don't touch the fence." Came Sheppard's distant reply.

"Ha, freekin' ha." Rodney muttered sharply before starting his shimmy across the branch. "We'll see who's laughing without his hot water when we get back, won't we? Climbing trees was not included in the mission briefing! Fly in and fly out… he says… find us a nearby gate… he says. Piece of cake… he says."

Rodney reached the far side of the fence and swung his legs over the side of the branch, cursing every bully who'd ever run him up a tree as a child. He squealed when hands snagged the back straps of his TAC vest, immediately expecting the worst as he was yanked from the branch.

Ronon dropped him onto his feet and turned without a word, quickly disappearing into the darkness between the trees.

"Crazy caveman." Rodney muttered, brushing off miniscule traces of dirt and bark from the front of his jacket before hurrying after Ronon's fading form.


	4. Chapter 4

The camp was deserted.

And had been for a long time.

Long, thin buildings stood randomly placed beneath the trees, hidden from the air by the high, dark canopy. In the winter months, the buildings might be more easily visible, but now, in the height of the warm season, they would be completely camouflaged.

Guided by flashlight, they walked slowly into the ghost town, weapons raised, seeking any sign of occupancy. But only the forest creatures seemed to be living here now – and they scattered with the approach of the team. There were no sounds other than those expected in a forest – birds, rustling leaves, and the occasional curse from McKay who couldn't seem to keep his feet level.

Hard packed paths wove through the undergrowth, moving from building to building. The forest hadn't claimed the pathways yet, so the abandonment hadn't been that long ago.

Garbage and a few scattered tools lay lost in the dirt. Ronon stopped to pick up a small shovel. A long wooden handle and silver scooped end. He turned it over in his hands before dropping it back onto the dirt.

He felt a moment of panicked urgency surge then subside. There was no one here. He moved after the others while the camp was thoroughly searched.

Evan was the one to find the cages.

Standing at the top of a small rise, the Major called the others over, pointing out a long row of wooden cages. A dozen feet in diameter, each was built with tall, spike topped bars. Too smooth to climb for most, and should they make it up, the spikes and spars across the top edge would prevent any handhold for escape. The structures were sound, and could easily house large animals… or people. Whatever was kept in there had no protection from the elements for in these spots, the trees had been cut back to expose the contents directly to the sky.

They left the puzzle of the cages, and moved onto the buildings. The first three units were empty – the only remnants were various piles of discarded tools, cloth, and broken dishes. A barracks, complete with small rooms and empty bunks, stretched long and thin along the far side of the central area.

The farthest building was smaller than the others, and windowless. There was a single narrow door along the front, and a matching door across the back. Inside stretched three rows of long tables, each roughly hewn running the length of the building. The surfaces were naked and bare, covered in scratches and a thick layer of dust.

Ronon wasn't sure what they were looking for – or looking at. If this was one of the prison camps, it was obviously abandoned, which meant Jennifer and Teyla weren't here.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing… or a bad thing… because the twisted feeling of helplessness and need was still building in his abdomen.

A passing sparkle in the beam of a flashlight beneath one of the far tables drew his eye and he crossed the room for a closer look. Kneeling, he reached down and brushed the dirt away from a half-buried circle. Giving it a tug he followed a heavy chain as it popped out of the dirt, exposing several more circles spaced out along the chain.

John squatted down beside him, offering light, and reached for the chain, a dark hiss escaping through his teeth when he found the end securely attached to a hook in the floor. John pulled, but the hook held firm. They watched the chain jingle in a matching hook at the other end.

Ronon stared at the thick linked chain in his hand, and the evenly spaced circles.

Leg shackles.

He exhaled a low growl and glanced at Sheppard, taking refuge in the furious understanding behind the Colonel's hardened expression.

"Move out." John stood, his command unquestionable. "We need to check those other camps."

* * *

Two hours later and they were back at the jumper, after confirming the second camp was just as deserted as the first. This time, the facility appeared to have been left several years ago. Many of the pathways were being reclaimed by the forest, and the buildings were weathered and uncared for. One row of cages were crushed and mangled beneath a toppled tree.

"Hold on." John didn't bother to see if everyone was ready before leaping their ship into the air.

Ronon could feel the frustration and the tension mounting. If this location was abandoned, he… well… he had no idea what he'd do short of walking into the damn city and blasting everyone until someone gave him straight answers.

The second camp had the same buildings, and the same layout. But it was the addition of the small pits next to the crushed cages that had them all silently counting ammunition and grenades. Each pit was a good six feet deep, narrowly lined with wooden planks. The narrow space would provide barely enough room for a single person. It wasn't until the fourth pit that they'd realized what they were looking at. Dangling from the top of the last hole, on a long chain tied to a nearby tree, hung two pair of shackles. One high, and one low. Wrists and ankles.

Sheppard surmised that the victim was locked into the chains, then tossed into the pit – with no room to move, no protection from the elements, and no way to eat or drink – if they were given the opportunity. The shackles were too far apart.

It was at that point that everyone turned as a group, quickly covering the ground back to the jumper, with no words spoken.

Now, as they neared the final location, the air inside the jumper became un-breathable. No one exhaled as Sheppard reached the edge of a massive gorge, and the location of the third camp. The sun was still a time from rising, but its quickly growing light gave play to the trees, making it easy to see the tall buildings of the city across the wide expanse of the rocky canyon.

Ronon could see the strangely circular cut of the rock walls, dropping down into a leafy valley below. A huge waterfall roared off one side of the cliff face, cutting a foaming white strip through the trees. The sides of the canyon were sheer and impassible. It easily explained the lack of fencing required. The circular gorge made a perfect prison.

"Shit!" Evan exclaimed, pointing to the HUD as they dropped down over the ridgeline.

Clusters of dots flickered and blinked on the screen. At least fifty life-signs shone brightly on the HUD. Four clusters were tightly packed in circular groups, their position unchanging. Several pairs moved around the clusters at various distances, and a long thin line of a dozen or so moved away from the camp towards an unknown destination.

"Life signs." Rodney exclaimed, leaping out of his chair to point at the display. "There!"

On the edge of the screen, two red dots glowed strongly.

Ronon felt the collective exhale. Subcutaneous transmitters. Jennifer and Teyla.

Then with a sharp inhale everyone swore as the single line of life-signs disappeared. Everything else remained unchanged.

"McKay!" Sheppard yelled.

"I didn't do anything!" Rodney answered sharply. "You saw the same thing I did! They could have entered another shielded area for all we know!"

"Get us down there!" Ronon growled.

"Working on it!" John answered, banking the jumper sharply to the right towards the right. He scanned the ground, finally locating a rocky beach next to a bend in the fast flowing river.

They barely fit. When they dropped the ramp, the last two feet of metal were quickly covered in the rushing whitewater.

"Okay." Sheppard announced, pulling everyone's attention to the front of the jumper. He pointed to the HUD. "This is a rescue, people. We're here to get our people and get out. Keep your eyes open. We don't know what kind of firepower we're going to be up against. McKay, I want to know the minute those transmitters appear. Major, follow the river towards that location – and stay out of sight."

"Roger, that." Evan nodded.

"We'll hook around the camp to the back side." John continued. "We need to know what we're facing, but keep the communication to a minimum. Shoot only if provoked. We don't want to announce our presence until we have too. Our silence could be the difference between life and death." He turned around. "Questions?"

Ronon turned leapt into the water and disappeared around the corner of the jumper.

"I guess that's a no?" John called out as he lead the rest of the team out of the jumper and onto the wet, rocky shore.

.

.

.

_A/N - Yes, i'm leaving the girls out of it for a reason! :) More quickly!! Promise!! - Nika_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note**: These next few chapters are a bit darker in content than I usually do, but I need to portray a pretty bleek location in order to get you through to what Jen/Telya are experiencing. If you can see where they were, you can see how they are. Nothing too graphic, but I just wanted to proceed these chapters with that little hint in mind. :) _

* * *

Sliding in behind a ridge of rocks, John rolled onto his stomach and crawled up beside Ronon. Rodney dropped down beside him, the worry evident in his features. John gave him a brief nod before digging his binoculars out of his TAC vest.

He scanned the narrow building through the trees. With it's long thin construction and small windows, it resembled the bunkhouses in the other camps, only this time, it was occupied. Two soldiers – guards – wearing dark green uniforms, approached the building from a narrow path, their laughter carrying easily over the quiet air of the early morning. They entered the building, and within a few moments, two others moved out through the doors and disappeared down the path.

"Shift change." John commented, dropping back down behind the rocks. He looked around and pointed to a large copse of trees in the distance to their right. "There."

Ronon nodded, and quickly set off at a low crouch. Once satisfied, he waved the others over while he stood sentry.

From their new vantage point they could see this camp was more open than the other two – the sharp walls of the canyon apparently affording it more protection from outside influences, and probably giving them more security. And maybe more confidence. Confidence which was going to cost them dearly.

The camp was awash with activity, and John studied it with a mix of horror and fury. He swore to whatever deity might be listening that he was going to shut it down with a vengeance. He felt the tension spilling off Ronon in barely controlled waves of anger, and McKay was making strangled noises in the back of his throat.

At least thirty women worked in various areas of the camp. Chained at the ankles, dressed in filthy clothes, they looked half starved, their limbs shaking with effort while they worked.

Or rather… while they were being forced to work under threat of armed guards.

Judging by their filthy appearance and less than healthy condition, these women had been here for more than a few days. Weeks maybe. Months even.

John felt his anger surfacing and he fought to control it.

In one corner, several women moved in tandem, hauling rocks from the back of a beast-drawn cart. They hefted the rocks onto a small conveyor which was hand cranked by two young women. Unkempt and dirty, their arms moved slowly as they spun handles to send the rocks slowly into the long, narrow building beside them.

Through the binoculars, John searched frantically for any sign of the tanned skin and dark hair his soul desperately needed to find, and the telltale blond tresses and pale complexion it should be next to. But she wasn't there. Neither of them were there.

"It's a mine." Ronon voiced.

"Mining for what?" Rodney asked quickly.

"Maresh crystals." Ronon nodded to the large conveyor. "They chip away the stones to get to the crystal. I've seen similar mining before… but…" his eyes narrowed. "Not like this."

As Ronon spoke, a door on the far end opened and two women stepped out, dragging a heavy box between them. The rope handles pulled their shoulders lower as they fought to keep the box upright. Inside the crate, flashes of green glowed in the sunlight that was now creeping through sections of the trees. Two guards followed, shoving the women unnecessarily towards a small stack of boxes. They placed the crate down and were instantly dragged back into the building. The door closed behind them with an echo of finality.

"Bastards." John cursed.

"I'm picking up some weird energy signatures." Rodney whispered, holding his palm scanner out so John could see it. "I think it's the rock."

Ronon nodded. "The crystals can be used to power small items. Lights. Heat sources. Much like your batteries. They don't have much strength, and don't last long. But they're worth much in trade. They're hard to find, and they're delicate."

"Delicate?" John turned away from the scanner to stare at Ronon.

Ronon nodded. "Hit them too hard and they shatter. They have to be removed from the rocks gently. On Sateda, the crystal polishers are... were… women. Their touch is more precise, and their hands more suited for the work."

Heads nodded in silence, eyes scanning the open movement of the camp. Twenty eight women. Eight confirmed guards. More in the bunkhouse. More inside. Doable.

But they needed to find Teyla and Jennifer first.

Their transmitter signals had been on the edge to their far left.

Ronon growled as one of the women was sharply backhanded by a guard for dropping the obviously too-heavy rock she was carrying. She fell, hard, and was immediately dragged to her feet by two women beside her, and all three cowered under threats to get back to work. John exhaled sharply, the urge to walk in, guns blazing, held momentarily in check by the need to find Teyla and the Doctor, first.

He double tapped his radio talk button, sending two quick sharp static chirps. Within seconds a returning double tap came from Evan. It was clear to talk.

"Report, Major." John ordered, opening the channel.

"In position." Evan's answered, his voice hushed. "Half a click behind the guardhouse. There's a large gravel pile to my immediate left."

John adjusted his binoculars, picking out the edges of a massive pile of discarded rock chunks. He moved along the tree line, but saw no indication of the Major's position. Not that he expected to.

"Any sign of our packages?" John asked, looking at Rodney, his question targeted at both men.

"Negative." Evan's reply was immediate.

_Damn it_.

Rodney, hunkered down behind a large trunk, looked up from his scanner, shaking his head. No transmitter signals.

"Colonel. Do you have eyes on the cages? Opposite side of the gravel."

"Negative." John scanned the indicated direction but the end of the rock pile was blocked by the small warehouse.

"You need to see this." Evan's response came back with muted force.

Whatever it was, it wasn't good. But it wasn't Teyla, and it wasn't Jennifer, so John accepted a brief flash of relief before answering.

"Understood." He tucked his binoculars back into his pocket. "Hold your position."

"Roger that." Evan replied, and the radios fell silent.

Working their way quickly around the edge of the encampment, the lack of guarded sentries made their trek easier than it should have been. John felt his stomach twisting in anticipation of showing these backwater Neanderthals just what he thought of their facility. He almost patted the extra cubes of C4 he'd tucked into his vest before he left.

Those buildings were going to go up like kindling.

With the sun now cresting the rim of the ridge and bathing the valley floor in its bright rays, they took extra care with their movements. Taking a wider route around the campsite, they reached the far side with no resistance, but moved with practiced caution regardless. Keeping low to the ground, they slipped through the undergrowth, using trees and deadfall as shelter and shadowed camouflage.

When they reached the back side, the mountain of gravel was easily visible through the brush, it's stark grey palette a sharp contrast to the lush green foliage. John lead them back through the undergrowth, approaching Edison, who was covering his Major's six. Edison nodded in the direction of the others.

John slipped down against the ground and belly crawled up beside Evan, who was stretched out beneath a massive bush, his eyes scanning the work camp in front of him.

Evan nodded in greeting, and angled his chin out towards the far end of the small mountain of rock.

From this angle, John could easily see the cages, but unlike the other camp, these bars were dark and less obtrusive. And unlike the other camp, these cages were occupied.

Close to twenty men stood or sat inside the small structure, clustered together in groups of similar colored uniforms and clothing styles. They looked just as bedraggled as the women.

John shook his head, completely confused. Why would the men be caged and the women be working? Would it not make more sense to have the men hauling the rocks and the women removing the crystals?

"What crystals?" Evan asked. "What women?"

At Lorne's questions, John understood he'd voiced his thoughts aloud, and realized that with his vantage point behind the warehouse, the Major had been unable to see the far side of the camp and the women's chain-gang.

John quickly explained what was going on across the camp, and watched with understanding as Evan's normally half-amused expression turned hard and cold – a direct look into the seldom seen side of the Major. It was almost unnatural how much it changed Evan's entire presence, and surprised John just as much now, as it had the first time he'd seen it. Evan slowly turned his unblinking stare onto the guard's building as though he were trying to see through it. John patted him on the shoulder, a promise of retribution on behalf of the unnamed women. Evan nodded, understanding the finality of their unspoken agreement.

They were not leaving the camp without seeing justice done.

"Oh crap." Rodney's sudden squeak turned everyone towards him. He stared at the scanner in his hand, his eyes wide.

"Wraith!" Rodney exhaled, his explanation unnecessary as the distinct, high pitched whine echoed over the trees, the familiar silver shape of a Wraith dart skimming over their heads.

With weapons pointed skyward they watched in horror as the Wraith dart slid across the camp, screams of the women echoing through the trees. The men in the cages cried out in horror, scrambling against the bars in an attempt to escape their spiked prison.

John and the team leapt to their feet, guns trained on the ship, unable to clear a shot with the cover of the trees and buildings. They moved towards the open area of the camp, but the trapped women were not the intended target. John watched in horror as the dart swooped down across the cages with practiced ease. In a flash of light, the prisoners disappeared into the culling beam of the ship. Without breaking stride, the dart shot up into the clouds and disappeared.


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh crap. Oh shit. Did you see… they just… its just… oh hell." Rodney exhaled, his voice a whisper as he stared at the now empty cages. With a wobble in his legs he sagged against the tree beside him.

Silence answered as the screams and cries of the women on the far side of the camp were cut quickly under a series of sharp rifle shots.

Ronon spun around, and only Sheppard's hand on his arm stayed him from running across the compound. He glared at the Colonel, not wanting to listen, but understanding the need to keep his over-taxed emotions in check. Jennifer was not there. Neither was Teyla. But it did not mean the other women deserved to be left unguarded. Unprotected.

Rodney exhaled with a squeak. "Oh God you don't think they…"

Shouted orders to be quiet and get back to work echoed across the grounds.

"No I don't." John shook his head, really, really hoping he didn't, as he ordered everyone deeper to the trees.

Rodney blinked, then nodded in hopeful agreement, his eyes dropping down to the scanner. "Oh crap." He looked up, the whine of a dart engine increasing in volume as it quickly approached.

With a fury they turned and ran towards the clearing, out into the space behind the building. Ronon aimed, but the location and angle were useless. He could do nothing but watch with the others as the dart quickly dropped over the trees and cleared the area of the cages. The ship's beam activated, but this time something was left behind. The dart rose and quickly disappeared.

Ronon growled at the unclaimed opportunity.

But he also understood shooting down the dart would play their hand.

And they needed to find Jennifer and Teyla before they announced their presence. But if the reason their transmitters weren't showing was because of the darts…

He exhaled sharply, the knowledge eating through his resolve. He turned towards Sheppard, a reflection of worry bouncing back at him.

The slight shake of John's head told Ronon the Colonel didn't want to consider the thought either.

The sound of a door opening pressed them motionless as a pair of guards exited the building. They headed towards the small crate now sitting in the dirt beside the cages. Staring down at the box, they looked nervously to the sky before turning away and moving back into the bunkhouse.

With an exhale of relief, Rodney looked at his scanner, nodding slowly. "They're gone. But I can't see past the edge of the canyon." He looked up. "No guarantee there aren't more."

"Of course." John cursed.

"Wait." At Rodney's single word everyone froze. "Another ship." He whispered. "Not wraith. Too small."

"Geeze," John muttered, as everyone scrambled back into the forest, their eyes on the leafy canopy above as the whining drone of a ship reached their ears. "This place is busier than LAX on a holiday."

They quickly retreated to the safety of the forest next to the gravel pile, the thick tree branches and bushes giving them more cover. Dropping to the ground, they watched as a third ship, not much bigger than a jumper, coasted into the opening next to the cages and set down with a blast of dust.

The engines cooled and slowed, their hum dissipating as a large door in the side slid open.

Several guards approached from the bunkhouse, snapping to attention to meet the pair of guards exiting the ship. Dressed in similar uniforms, the armed contingent turned towards the dark opening of the ship, and the properly dressed middle-aged man who exited with a flourish. Impeccably crisp, his dark suit was tailored and well cut to fit his overweight form.

Following behind the man in the suit, two guards brought a woman through, dressed in a dark brown dress, she looked about with confusion and worry. The man in the suit nodded and smiled to her, calling over one of the camp guards, who offered her his arm. He chatted amicably with the woman, leading her away from the ship and into one of the buildings off to the right. The woman laughed and relaxed her walk, strolling with the soldier up the step and in through the door he held open.

John thought of Woolsey's explanation, and of how Teyla and Jennifer had been told it was a misunderstanding and it would be sorted out quickly.

"Bastard." Rodney whispered, watching dark suit moving quickly past the ship, his short hastened stride taking him straight for the small crate the Wraith dart left behind.

"Guess that would be the warden." Evan muttered.

Waving one of his guards over, the man stood to the side while the box was opened, and its contents revealed.

With a curse, John stared through his binoculars, noting Evan's muttered swearing beside him.

"Jewelry?" Evan was incredulous. "They just traded twenty human lives for a box of… jewelry?"

John felt a cold knife settle itself in his abdomen while he stared at the man in the suit. With a glance at Ronon, a silent agreement passed between them. Dark suit was not going to live to see another delivery. They were going to find Teyla. Find Jennifer. Then shut this place down. Permanently.

Smiling a cold, sickly smile, dark suit motioned for the guard to take the crate to the ship. Two men hefted it and disappeared up the ramp. He turned to follow, but was halted by calls of _Overseer_ from the far side of the camp. He stopped and turned towards two more guards, who exited the trees at a brisk walk and hurried towards their leader.

John stiffened, his eyes on the conversation unfolding in the clearing. The Overseer was not happy at whatever news he was being delivered. His face and neck cherried instantly, and he stuttered his response, his volume increasing to a decidedly female shriek.

"W-w-what do you mean you _lost_ them!"

Sputtered apologies from the newly arrived guards were cut off with a crack as the Overseer backhanded the man speaking.

"You let two… two… weakling _women_ get the better of you? Find them quickly or find yourself the next occupant of our newly emptied holding facility!"

Muted nods and worried glances at the empty cage announced the guards understanding of their threatened punishment.

"Well, what are you waiting for!" Dark suit ordered, loudly enough it carried clearly across the camp. "Go get them!" He waved his hands madly in the air. "Send word when you have them so I can deal with their insolence personally."

He spun on his heel, his final words echoing as he disappeared into his ship. "No one makes a fool of the Valian Overseer."

The guards who originally accompanied the Overseer, quickly retreated to their ship, and with a loud clang, the hatch closed. The hum of the engines increased quickly, launching the ship into the air. The guards on the ground gathered together, pointing into the distance, their words too soft to be heard, but John had a very, very strong idea he knew what was going on.

Teyla and Jennifer made a break for it, and they were somewhere in the canyon to the west. Alive, at the moment. Currently free of the camp and the chains. But pursued by armed guards with one hell of a personal reason to bring them back – return the women or be Wraith food.

John looked pointedly at McKay, who shook his head, his scanner clutched tightly between his fingers. No transmitters.

Within a few moments, the guards reassembled, each armed with rifles and revolvers. Forming two groups of six, they quickly stepped off into the trees, varying both distance and direction.

in hushed urgency, John ordered Evan and Edison to take the left group, while he and Ronon would take the group on the right. They were to track and follow, keeping a safe distance, and engage only if Teyla and Jennifer were located. In the mean time, Captain Sanchez and Lieutenant Browne would escort McKay back to the jumper to circle the canyon from the air in search of their transmitter signals.

With an adrenaline burst that accompanied sudden movement and an intense purpose, the teams split deep into the forest, leaving the camp behind, but vowing they would return.

They had unfinished business here.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note**: This chapter is a bit long, but I couldn't decide how to break it up, so I didn't. :) Its a mix of current and backstory to give you Jen/Teyla's perspective. You have a pretty good idea of what's going on from the guys look at the camp, but here's the inside scoop from the ladies. again, it's a bit dark, but hopefully worthy of the plot. More to follow ASAP! - Nika_

* * *

"Oh crap." Jen exhaled, her right foot slipping off the rock she was trying to find purchase on. Her fingers slid in the blood, and she scrambled to get her foot locked onto a more stable position. This time the foothold she chose held, and she exhaled a shaky breath.

_Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down. Oh hell, you just had to look down._

Lord that ground was far away. Plastering herself against the sharp, rocky cliff-side, she tried to pretend it was just a rock climbing wall. A rock climbing wall. She was in the gym. It was perfectly safe. Yep. Perfectly safe.

"Jennifer." Teyla said quietly, her voice coming from slightly above and to the left.

Jen slowly raised her head, squinting up against the mid-day sun at the Athosian, who was perched on the lip of the ridge just above Jen's head.

"Just a little further." Teyla urged.

"Easy for you to say." Jen mumbled. "You're already there."

Teyla smiled her encouragement, but Jen knew it was all for naught. They were hopelessly screwed.

Squeezing her eyes closed, then quickly opening them, she let out the breath she'd been holding and willed her body to move just a little further. Just one more rock. Her right foot slid up, toes scrambling for another place to hold. Then her right hand. Higher. Ignoring the pain in her side. Eyes helping search for something stable. She could see the tiny drops of blood Teyla left behind. The wet, darkly red sheen a stark contrast to the dry, grey rock. She concentrated on gripping tightly, not letting her own blood slip her fingers. A little higher. A little closer to the top. A little closer to rest.

Left foot. Left hand. Higher.

Right foot. Right hand. Higher.

Teyla's arm reached out, her fingers grabbing the material around Jen's shoulder. She pulled – lightly enough to keep from tearing the flimsy material, but strong enough to guide Jen in the right direction. Jen climbed, and with a momentous gasp of relief and a silent cry of victory, she tumbled onto the rocky plateau and lay quietly against Teyla, arms wrapped around the other woman in celebration.

Jen chanced a glance back down to the ground. Dear god that was far. She sat back quickly and scooted away from the edge, settling herself against a cluster of rocks overlooking the valley below. Pressing against the throbbing pain in her ribs, she exhaled slowly and stared down at herself, amazed she'd been able to move at all. She stared at her fingers – raw and bleeding, sliced against the sharp rocks as they climbed. Her arms, where the burn of the rope had cut into her skin leaving angry red welts circling her wrists. Her knees, scraped and scratched from their run, their escape. Her ankles, the sharp metal clamps still tightly attached around each leg, the remnants of the long chain that originally bound her feet jingling happily from a loop on the inside of each set. Her feet, wrapped in scraps of cloth to protect them, completely useless against the cuts that were already there – blood and mud staining the bottom of the makeshift slippers.

She turned to Teyla, who's condition was the same. Yet somehow Jen knew she personally was carrying it a hell of a lot worse. The woman still managed to look regally beautiful, despite the bloody cuts and scrapes. Sitting with her muddy, bare legs crossed at the ankles, Jen could see where they were scraped raw under the press of the metal braces. Teyla's legs and arms were scratched and scraped, and rope burn bled across her wrists and down into her cut fingers. And where she leaned back against the rocks, eyes closed, breathing steady, Jen's eyes were wide and her heart was galloping like a hopped-up race horse.

Teyla opened her eyes and sat up with a hiss, making Jen's blood run cold. Scanning the sky above them, Jen's heart slammed painfully against her ribs. "Oh god, are they back?"

They'd been at the base of the cliff when the Wraith darts skimmed down over the edge of the canyon in the early morning light. Wraith darts that were obviously coming to claim their prize. The men in the cage. Jen's stomach turned and she bit back the taste of bile.

"No." Teyla shook her head. "I do not sense any more Wraith." She rubbed her thigh. "I have a… muscle cramp?"

Jen exhaled, her mind eagerly jumping at something - anything to do - and she moved quickly to Teyla's side, helping massage the seized muscle. After a few moments, Teyla nodded her thanks, and Jen settled down against the rock beside her.

"We must find shelter and a safer place to rest." Teyla proposed.

"Yeah." Jen nodded, licking her dry lips. "Maybe there's a bed and breakfast up here somewhere. Heck, at this point I'd take just about anything as long as I could just get something to eat. Oh god, I sound like Rodney."

Teyla grinned. "I will find us something to eat once we catch our breath."

"More grubs?" Jen made a face at their long running inside joke of the time spent running from the Bola Kai. Since their… adventure, Teyla continued to remind Jennifer of her inability to eat anything that wasn't fully prepared in a kitchen.

Teyla laughed. "But you said you did not mind the taste?"

Jen shook her head, a slight smile creeping the corner of her mouth. "I think I said I'd rather eat that disgusting bowl of bile they fed us for breakfast, first."

Teyla shrugged. "Now that you say it, I believe I do recall your preference for… what was it you called it?"

"Slop?" Jen raised an eyebrow, her stomach rolling over at the goopy, grey, paper-pulp paste they were given for their supposed meals.

"Slop." Teyla repeated.

Jen turned her head and peered out at the ridge itself, as it ran a complete circle around their prison. Several miles in diameter, the massive rock crater carved out of the wilderness, sheer walls dropped down to the tree covered valley below. It was as though someone had taken a giant cookie-cutter and chunked off a piece of the planet. From above, the valley floor looked lush and green, the canopy hiding the atrocities taking place below.

_A misunderstanding. We'll have this cleared up in no time. _

As soon as they'd arrived, Teyla and Jen both knew that short of a squad of Marine's dropping in to rescue them… they weren't going to be going anywhere fast.

Between the filthy clothes, the ankle chains, the manual labour, and the armed soldiers, Jen was reminded of old prison chain-gang movies. Except in this case, the prisoners weren't loaded up on busses to get from point to point. They were forced to walk barefoot. Teyla had explained that it was harder to escape if you couldn't walk due to the cuts and bruises on the bottom of your feet.

Jen was the first of their pair to discover the penalty for disobeying the rules of the camp. Ignoring orders for her to continue working, she'd stopped to help the poor woman beside her get up after the other woman stumbled and landed hard on her side. Jen immediately felt her punishment as she was staggered to the ground under the stinging bite of a rifle barrel to her ribs. The woman she'd previously helped ignored her. With the throbbing pain in her side from what was surly bruised ribs, Jen couldn't blame the woman for not responding.

Later, after seeing the guards across the compound beat a woman for being too weak to lift a rock she was assigned to move, Teyla gave Jen a commanding order. Do whatever she needed to do to stay alive. Even if it meant _not_ helping someone. Jen barely held herself in check as the poor woman's unconscious body was hauled off into the forest.

She never came back.

That night, after being dragged back to their camp, they were thrown into a small windowless room with a group of other women where they were handed a pot of stagnant water to share, and another pot of grey mashed slop. Inside the tiny room, there were only enough beds for half the women – if you could call the bare threaded mats, beds - so everyone doubled up. Jen was quite glad it was summer. They had no blankets.

They learned through quiet whispers that all the women were from different planets, and while some had been carrying weapons, others insisted the knives were planted on their person. Something Jen had no problem believing.

The fact that these women had been here for days, weeks, and even months, prompted immediate plans of escape. But it was the explanation of why the men were being kept in the cages outside that prompted a heart-stopping urgency.

The Valians were making deals with the devil.

Or in this case, creepy, life-sucking, white-haired devils.

Wraith.

Jen spent most of the night praying for rescue, but knowing deep in her heart it wouldn't be coming. There were too many reasons why not – the foremost being that they weren't due back for another thirty-six hours, so they were not missed. No one knew there was anything wrong.

The next morning they made their first attempt at escape. Overpowering their overconfident guard before the man had a chance to clip the chains to their ankle locks, Teyla ordered her to make a run for it. But they'd made their move at the wrong time – shift change – so the additional guards quickly held them at gunpoint before locking them back into their shackles. With the bonus of a few painfully strategic hits for good measure.

Jen rather preferred the physical violence over the other alternative - being fed to the Wraith. Which is exactly what their guards suggested would be their fate if they tried anything again.

If only the guards knew the threat only added fuel to their drive to find another way out. Anyone who made deals with the Wraith could not be trusted to keep their word. And if word got out the Valians had two Atlantians in their clutches… well the scenario was most definitely not good.

Not good at all.

It had taken them most of the second day to figure out a better plan of escape. Teyla's keen eye had quickly picked out a weakness when the women were moved from one location to the next. Since many of the trails between work areas were narrow, the women had to be unhooked from their working groups and placed into several single lines.

At the end of the day, Teyla managed to shuffle herself and Jen into a position to be hooked up at the very back their small group. The dark shadows of the quickly approaching dusk would give them their best chance of survival if they were to make a run for it. But hey would have to move before they reached the village. They would need to wait as long as possible for the darkness to fully take form on the valley floor. Jen left the timing up to Teyla.

Setting as slow a pace as possible Teyla waited until a they reached a thickly forested spot near the border of the camp before giving Jen her cue. Jen dropped to the ground, her body's sudden stop grinding the shuffling chain-gang to a halt. The guard at the back made a move for Jen, who tripped him into Teyla. The first guard jumped forward and Teyla, with both feet shackled, managed to drop both men without either one making a sound.

They released the other women, who scattered into the trees, and then Jennifer followed Teyla into the deep forest. Through the night they ran, resting for short periods, trying to put as much distance between them and the camp. They'd reached the bottom of the ridge in the early morning light and had decided on their only avenue of escape.

Up.

Jen sighed and turned back towards Teyla. "Shouldn't the jumper's have seen us by now? At least found a way to let us know they're here? We missed our check-in hours ago. Wouldn't they have launched a search by now?"

Teyla shook her head. "I do not know. Perhaps the rock is still blocking our signal. Perhaps they've gone to the city first."

Jen nodded at the answer she'd already worked through in her own mind. _Or perhaps they weren't coming._

"Jenifer." Teyla's soft voiced turned Jen's head towards her. "They _will_ come for us."

"Not if they think we're dead."

"_Especially_." Teyla said, her expression fierce. "If they think we're dead."

"But what if they don't know something's wrong? What if they made Mr. Woolsey give them false information?" Jen gave voice to the thoughts plaguing her anxious mind and heart.

Teyla shook her head, her fingers landing gently on Jen's bare arm. "Mr. Woolsey knows the security protocols and security words if being forced to make a false transmission. And if I know anything about Richard Woolsey, it is his deep desire to follow protocols."

Jen felt herself smiling, if only slightly. It was true. Richard Woolsey would definitely follow protocols. Which meant either Atlantis knew they'd been detained by Woolsey's keywords, or Atlantis knew they'd missed their check in. Both scenarios could lead to only one thing. Rescue.

"Jennifer, they will know something is wrong. _He_ will know." Teyla said softly, angling her head.

Jen nodded at Teyla's words, a feeling of warmth spreading through her weary limbs to know in her heart that Ronon wouldn't just leave her out here. If there was anything… anything she knew about him… it was his sense of justice. He'd never let the Vales keep her here. And he'd never believe any rumors of her death without proof. She felt herself smiling. He'd never let anyone take what was his.

And right now, Jen was very, very glad she was his. Because he was going to cause some serious damage when he found out.

"You're right." She nodded at Teyla, also knowing that a certain Colonel was probably going bananas right now because Teyla had missed her check-in.

She shook her head, a soft laugh escaping as she thought of the kind of trouble the Valians were about to come up against.

Teyla raised an eyebrow.

Jen flushed slightly. "I was just thinking that if we had to choose the men to come after us…"

"Yes." Teyla nodded. "I believe you are correct. I fear for the Vales when Ronon discovers you have been so badly treated."

Jen glanced down at Teyla's matching wounds. "I'm not so sure John's going to be much of a happy camper, either. And he's the guy with all the C4, remember."

Their shared laugh broke through the worry, and they settled back against the rock in silence, eyes closed against the bright light of the high sun.

Jen smiled to herself, her thoughts on Ronon, feeling his warmth surrounding her. "They're coming, aren't they?" She asked softly, her head turning towards Teyla.

"Yes." Teyla nodded, her eyes flashing with conviction. "They are coming."

After a few more moments of cherished rest in the afternoon sun, both women moved to stand, helping each other off the ground. With one last look out across the canyon they turned towards the trees, and came face to face with four Valian guards.

"Oh crap." Jen exhaled, her eyes locked on the rifle barrels which were pointed directly at them.

"Yes." Teyla nodded. "Crap, indeed."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note:** This is just a warning that these next two chapters are pretty stark and suggestive, 'cause the girls are in a big pile o' trouble. More to follow ASAP. Promise! - Nika_

* * *

Ronon sighed and shook his head, watching the Valian guards arguing over which direction to take.

"Good lord, these guys are either incredibly adept at walking in perfect circles, or the dumbest soldiers I've ever seen." John whispered, prompting Ronon to snort in agreement.

They'd spent the better part of the day following the six Valian guards through the brush, and Ronon had counted no less than five complete circles, each well over a mile in diameter. On the first pass, Ronon had already determined there was no sign of Jennifer or Teyla. Yet these six men hadn't even noticed they'd been following their _own_ path.

Hell, even McKay would be a better tracker than these idiots.

They were now almost all the way across the canyon, watching as the guards turned in yet another circle, arguing over the merits of returning to the camp and sending out another group.

With a sigh he glanced at Sheppard who shrugged.

"Sheppard. We've got their signals!" Rodney's excited voice came over the com.

John dropped down behind the log he was using for cover. "Where are they?" He whispered into his mic.

"The camp. They're almost back at the camp – coming in from the north. We just crossed the ridgeline and… well… there they were. They aren't alone. There were… are… four other life signs. We can only pick them up from directly above. Can't get a visual… the trees are too thick and the crystals are causing intermittent disruptions."

"Finally." Sheppard answered. "Major Lorne, fall back to the camp. Sanchez, find a parking space closer to the transmitters. And keep it cloaked."

"Already on it." Evan quickly replied.

"Understood." Captain Sanchez acknowledged.

Ronon felt his abdomen twisting with anticipation. Sheppard turned and nodded, raising his P90 for anticipated cover should the Valians notice their retreat. With the thick trunks at their back, they stealthily moved out of earshot of the guards before kicking up their speed.

At a full out run, Ronon channeled his emotions into the single minded purpose.

Rescue.

* * *

The door to the damp, dark cell swung open, and Teyla quickly shielded her eyes against the painful onslaught of sudden light. Jennifer's hiss in her ear echoed the Doctor's response.

"The Overseer will be here shortly to deal with your insolence." The guard announced, stepping back and waving them forward with his revolver.

"Good." Teyla smiled, her eyes hard. "We will be sure to thank him for his… hospitality."

The guard ran his eyes slowly and suggestively down Teyla's body, then repeated the motion along Jennifer's. "I don't think it's your... thanks... he will have. The Overseer, at least, prefers brunettes. I… however… have a _hard_ spot for blonds."

He reached for Jennifer's hair, forcing the doctor to back sharply against the wall. Two guards who were standing in the narrow, basement hallway laughed aloud.

Teyla heard Jennifer's sharp intake of breath and willed herself to remain calm. With their hands bound so tightly behind their backs, fight would be difficult, but not impossible, for her. But for Jennifer…

Teyla glanced at the doctor, noting the raw fear clearly visible in Jennifer's wide eyes.

The guard spun Jennifer roughly and shoved her towards the exit. She stumbled, falling against him. His hands lingered too long against the Doctor's slight form. Jennifer squirmed and cried out in protest. Teyla jammed her shoulder into the guard's back, sending him off balance and forcing him to release Jennifer.

She was rewarded with a sharp backhand which staggered her into the wall and she slid awkwardly to the floor.

"Teyla!" Jen cried out, dropping to her knees beside her. "Leave her alone." She glared up at the three guards.

"I am fine." Teyla assured Jennifer, her eyes on the three guards as the two women were hauled to their feet. She used her bare shoulder to wipe the blood off the corner of her mouth. "But they will not be, I swear to you."

"You have quite the attitude for someone who's so close to death." The first guard frowned, roughly shoving Teyla forward.

"Death and I are very old friends." Teyla answered, climbing the steps to the main floor of the building. "I do not fear him."

They exited the basement and weaved through a narrow hallway, doors to their sleeping rooms standing open on either side.

Hearing Jennifer's squeak behind her, Teyla turned in time to see the guard running his hands across Jennifer's hips. She moved towards them but the one of the guards grabbed her bound arms and pulled her back against him. She struggled, her fingers digging into his waistband while the three men laughed.

Jennifer watched the anger smoldering behind Teyla's eyes, the fury solidifying as the Athosian's gaze narrowed. Teyla suddenly stopped struggling, and Jen knew, without a doubt, she was up to something. Jen felt herself tensing, wondering, waiting, hoping that Teyla had a plan. Any plan. Anything to get them out of there because at this exact moment, with the disgusting feel of the guard's hands on her hips, she really, _really_ wanted out of there. And she'd probably agree to do just about anything Teyla wanted.

The guard behind Jen pulled her roughly up against him, his arms tightly gripping her shoulders. The position of her bound wrists was in direct contact with the lump in his crotch and she shifted her arms quickly to the side, straining her shoulder.

He laughed.

"Take that one to the cages and wait for the Overseer." He ordered the men holding Teyla, and sending Jen's stomach into a tangle of swirling bile. "I want to have a little fun with this one, first."

"No." Jen whispered, the horror of her situation stealing her voice.

The guards quickly dragged Teyla outside as Jen screamed against the taste of dirt and sweat of the man's palm which covered her mouth.


	9. Chapter 9

"Damn it, McKay!" John cursed. "Where the hell are they?"

"I told you," Rodney whispered harshly. "Those… those… damn crystals are interfering with the transmitters!"

"Well figure something out!" Ronon ordered gruffly.

"As if it were that easy!" Rodney exclaimed, looking down at the scanner, and whacking it with the side of his hand. "You can't just pull a Fonzie and then suddenly expect me to be able to say - there's Teyla!"

"No, but I _can_ expect you to figure something out!" John answered sharply.

"No!" Rodney pointed into the clearing. "There's Teyla!"

They turned, watching Teyla struggling between two men, her arms bound tightly behind her back. John stared at the sight of her bruised and bloody limbs, her mistreatment obvious. His heart froze as he cursed into his com.

"Major we have eyes on Teyla. Far side of the clearing to your left near the cages. Get into position and wait for my signal."

"Moving." Evan answered.

John waved Ronon and Rodney around towards the clearing. Most of the guards and the rest of the women were working on the far side of the camp, but Teyla's struggle was not all together quiet. Reinforcements could come. They needed to get her out of there before it was too late.

The two guards were dragging Teyla towards the cages, but she was making their trip very difficult. As soon as one of the guards wrapped his arms tightly around her upper body to hold her still, she took her advantage.

With a grunt of effort she swung her legs up, clamping them tightly around the second guard's neck. With practiced skill she arched her back and jerked her hips to the right, the sudden snapping in the man's neck dropping him like a discarded doll.

The man holding her let go, and she fell to the ground, rolling onto her side. The man dove at her but she suddenly leapt to her feet, her arms free, one hand holding his knife. The man reached for his empty belt sheath in surprise, and Teyla smiled coldly.

As he scrambled through the trees, Ronon running in his peripherals, John watched the guard reaching for his holster, his heart crying out in warning. He raised his P90, sliding down a small rise, his feet taking him swiftly forward. He had a crap of a shot from this angle, and a worse chance with all the branches in the way.

But his help was not needed.

With a cry of disgust Teyla leapt forward, the knife slicing against its target before the man could finish drawing his gun. Spinning away with a swirl of dark hair, she snatched the revolver out of his holster, and left the man clutching his throat, his life bubbling out between his fingers. He dropped to his knees and joined his partner face first in the dirt.

Without looking back, Teyla shot across the clearing and into the building she'd just been dragged out of.

* * *

Blackness and stars swirled Jennifer's vision as her head slammed against the wooden floorboards.

Momentarily stunned, she rode the surge of adrenaline that was keeping her from passing out. Her shoulders cried out in protest under his weight, the heaviness of their two bodies crushing her arms beneath her back.

Her heart slammed with a panic she'd never before known. _No, no, no_ her mind shrieked, her voice screaming the same against his disgustingly sweaty palm.

With every ounce of strength and will she ever possessed she fought. She fought against the weight of his body, fought against the fear of passing out while at his mercy, fought against the knowledge of what was about to happen.

She bucked her shoulders and hips, twisting her body and jerking her legs violently, connecting with a knee to his overly sensitive crotch. He grunted and cursed. The hand that was covering her mouth moved to her throat, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh as he squeezed, her scream dying along with her air. She could feel his free hand struggling between their waists, his hand trying to release his belt. She kneed him again, earning herself a tightening squeeze against her throat when he grunted.

The room blackened as her oxygen supply was cut off, her body losing it's ability to fight. Brightness arched the edges of tear streaked vision and she felt a sudden jerk of his lower body as it lifted off her. Bracing for the pain that was about to come, she silently thanked the heavens for letting him kill her in the process.

Yet… there was no pain.

But suddenly, there _was_ air.

Her lungs filled abruptly and she gasped, the return of oxygen clearing her vision and her mind.

It was Teyla's face she saw first, hovering above the guard's head, anger and fury locked on her features. Her arm was wrapped tightly around the man's throat. His eyes were wide with shock and surprise, his mouth open in a silent oh.

An unusual warmth trickled along Jen's abdomen and she lifted her head.

Teyla's right hand was tightly gripping the hilt of a knife, the blade buried to her fist in the man's side. Blood pooled out from beneath his rib cage, flowing out onto her waist.

_Oh thank god. _Jen tried to speak but her throat was raw and painful. She could only muster a squeak.

Teyla shoved the man to the side, his body dropping with a sickening thunk onto the floor beside Jen, the knife sliding out from between his ribs with a sickening wetness. She grabbed Jen's arm, hauling her to her feet. Jen felt the world spinning at the sudden rush of motion and she fell to her knees. Teyla grabbed her again.

"No, Jennifer. You must fight it. We have to go _now_. You can pass out later."

Jen nodded and struggled to her feet, the room tilting with the violence of an amusement park ride. Teyla used the knife to cut the ropes behind Jen's back, her shoulders screaming in agony as they were freed. Jen let the Athosian guide her towards the exit, the light streaming through the window of the door broadcasting the daylight and sunshine.

_She was fine. Nothing happened. She was fine. Nothing happened._

The chant echoed through her mind with every stumbling step towards the doorway.

"I'm okay." Jen whispered hoarsely, as Teyla checked the outside through the window.

Teyla glanced sharply at her, and Jen nodded, knowing Teyla would need to be free of her clinging if they were to make any attempt at escape.

Teyla nodded and released her slowly. "Can you run?" She asked.

Jen nodded. "Hell, I'll fly if it will get us out of here," she whispered hoarsely, coughing against the dryness in her raw throat.

Teyla smiled briefly and nodded, her eyes scanning the area outside the door before turning back to Jen. "Don't ever let anyone tell you that you are not strong, Jennifer."

"I'm scared shitless." Jen whispered.

Teyla nodded her understanding. "I am not without fear myself. Believe me." With one last check out the small window, Teyla looked pointedly at Jen. "Ready?"

Jen nodded.

With a deep breath, they stepped out into the daylight, Teyla's right hand clutching the revolver, her left wrapped around the hilt of the bloody knife.


	10. Chapter 10

As Jen followed Teyla out into the afternoon sunshine, her eyes immediately fell on the two bodies lying in the dust a few feet away. She snapped her head away, trying not to look, not to admit they were dead, not to want to have to help them.

"They are beyond help." Teyla whispered.

Jen nodded.

The angle of the current building they were in was in line with the end of one of the cages, the bodies, and the clearing, easily visible. With the work teams through the trees to their right, an one of the warehouses to their left, they had only one direction left. Straight past the bodies, past the cages, and through the clearing, to the shelter of the forest beyond.

"Are you sure?" Jen whispered to Teyla.

Teyla nodded, whispering over her shoulder. "It is the only way. Are you ready?"

"No." Jen mumbled.

"Come." Teyla stepped down onto the hard-packed dirt, her eyes darting quickly around.

Jen hesitated only a breath before scrambling after her, her mind screaming a warning as she felt the deep stabbing knowledge that they were being watched. They'd been seen. Someone knew what they'd done - the dead guards – she stared down at their lifeless bodies as she passed. Eyes unseeing. The blood staining the dirt. She stumbled. Corrected. Moved quickly after Teyla.

A shout from behind.

An order to stop.

A kick of dirt next to Teyla's ankles as a shot rang out.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god. _

"Run!" Teyla ordered, and Jen needed no further urging.

She ran.

They'd made it to the edge of the cages when a whirling vibration from above staggered them to a halt, blinding them with blown dust as the Overseer's ship dropped quickly into the clearing, blocking their escape.

Spinning, they faced a half a dozen guards, anger and coldness staring back at them from behind the rifle barrels. The door of the ship to their back slid open, surrounding them completely in a circle of Valian guards.

Jen spun around, her heart in her throat as she realized escape was blowing away in the settling dust under the ship. One of the guards stepped forward and relieved Teyla of her weapons. A rough hand to their upper backs sent both women staggering forward.

With a purposeful stride, the Valian Overseer exited the ship, parting his men with a flourish.

"Ah. Dr. Keller. Teyla Emmagen." He nodded to each woman in turn. "So good to see you."

"I wish I could say the same." Teyla answered, her voice low and angry.

"Ah, yes." The Overseer laughed. "Marlan was correct. He said you had fire." He looked around at the other guards. "Where is he? I would like to congratulate him on a job well done."

"I am afraid he had a an unfortunate accident." Teyla's smile was cold and hard.

The door to the rooming house burst open and a guard rushed forward, stumbling in his hurry to reach the cluster of soldiers. "Marlan is dead." He exhaled, bowing low to the Overseer. "I'm sorry Overseer. Marlan… your son. He is dead. He is dead by their hand. By her hand. She killed him. His blood is still wet and warm upon her clothes." His arm raised, his index finger extended, pointing at the blood covering the lower half of Jen's tunic.

She stood frozen, her body unable to move. The words registering with a frantic pounding of her heart against her bruised ribs.

_Son? The man had been his son? They'd killed his son? But he was going to… and… Oh god… oh no, no, no…_

"My son…" The Overseer's face paled and he staggered back, the guard on his left reaching to steady him. Anguish and fury twisted his features as he straightened, his head turning slowly away from the soldier who'd brought him the horrific news. With a slow, purposeful stride, he moved towards Jen, his fingers clenched into to tightly balled fists. Jen's heart leapt into her throat and she shuddered against the roar of blood in her ears.

* * *

"Go, go, go!" Sheppard whispered, and Ronon leapt over the fallen log they were using for cover. With legs pumping he crossed around a cluster of trees and dove against the back door of the long building they'd seen Teyla enter from the front.

Holding his position, he was quickly joined by Sheppard. The Major and Lieutenant Edison were on the other side of the clearing, while McKay, Sanchez and Browne were moving the area south of the cages, the three groups forming a triangle around the building Teyla entered.

With practiced precision John and Ronon entered the building, weapons leading. The hallway was empty, with several small doors hanging open revealing narrow, windowless rooms. At the end of the hall, the corridor split into a T – shooting off to the left and right. Teyla would have come into the building from the right, yet Ronon heard no sound. Felt no presence. The building felt empty.

They moved quickly through the rooms, the last one in the corridor bringing them both to a halt.

A dead Valian guard, lying in a pool of his own blood. Fresh blood.

Coat undone. Belt unthreaded. Pants open.

Ronon's mind connected Teyla's frantic return with Jennifer's still unseen form. And the guard – a precise kill. Something Teyla would do from behind. The disarray of the man suggesting more than Ronon ever wanted to think of since he'd known the women were missing. Since he'd known something was wrong. Since he'd heard Jennifer had been taken prison.

Every muscle in his body locked into place as his eyes connected with Sheppard's. The look in the Colonel's eyes reflected a madness of cold fire Ronon knew existed in his own.

Sheppard stood, twisting his P90 with a sharp exhale, and they stepped back into the hallway.

"Colonel! We have eyes on Teyla and Dr. Keller. They've just exited the front of the building." Sanchez voice cut into Ronon's ear and he exhaled sharply.

Confirmation they were alive. Confirmation Teyla had returned for Jennifer. Confirmation it had been Jennifer here in this room.

Confirmation that someone was going to die for this.

They cleared the rest of the building and moved to the front door.

"We've got company!" Lorne's voice quickly cut over the com, the whining sound of a ship's engine duplicating over the radio and through the outside door.

"Shit!" Sheppard cursed. "Everyone hold for my mark!"

* * *

"No." Teyla spat, stepping in front of Jen to block the Overseer's anguished and furious advances. "Your son died by _my_ hand."

The Overseer hesitated, his eyes moving from Jen to Teyla.

"Teyla, no." Jen whispered, pushing forward to stand next to Teyla. "It… it was my fault."

"Jennifer, be quiet." Teyla ordered.

"I will not." Jen exhaled sharply.

"Enough!" The Overseer screamed, spittle flying off his lips, his face turning bright read under hate and grief. He spun around, took several quick steps back towards his ship, then spun back around, his hands fisting and releasing while he stared at the women.

Jen felt the sticky syrup of time sliding to a stop in the silence of the moment. Her mind taking everything in with a clarity she'd never before known. The pure insanity in the Overseer's eyes. The polished shine of the long black barrels which circled around them. The brightness of the late afternoon sun heating her back and shoulders and the light breeze that blew across her skin. The utter silence of the forest. The hair on the back of her neck that stood slowly to attention, breaking her body into a shudder of goosebumps as the Overseer's hand raised towards them, mouth moving with two words Jen never got a chance to hear.

"Kill them!" He lips formed, his voice drowned out by the sound of metal exploding as the rear drive pod of the small ship blasted apart in a firework display of flaming metal and burning debris.

.

.

.

_A/N - YAY! Here come the boys! :)_


	11. Chapter 11

Jen instinctively covered her head as the force of the explosion knocked her over-taxed body to the ground. Smoke billowed around her to the sharp sound of gunfire echoing through the clearing. Her first thoughts were of the grey darts they'd seen as the sun rose.

_Wraith_.

Fingers gripped her arm and she struggled, stopping only after she realized it was Teyla who was trying to pull her to her feet.

"Jennifer, we need to move!" Teyla commanded.

Jen ordered her feet to work, riding the adrenaline and fear as she ran after Teyla. Coughing violently as they passed through the thick smoke, her head pounded in response and her ribs kicked her back. She stumbled, dropping hard onto to her knees. Her eyes watered against the sting of the sooty smoke and she lost track of Teyla.

"Teyla!" Jen cried out, throwing herself face first into the dirt with a scream as another explosion rumbled across the clearing. Huge chunks of burning metal crashed to the ground around her. Survival kicked in and her legs propelled her up and forward with a speed she didn't know she posessed. She didn't care where, she just needed to move. Vision blurred she spun around, making out a flash of Teyla's dirty white dress through the fire and smoke… stained white spinning amongst green and navy.

_Navy_?

Gunfire.

No, _rapid_ bursts of gunfire.

P90's.

Instantly everything made sense. It wasn't _Wraith_, it was _rescue_.

She opened her mouth to call out, but her cry was cut off by a meaty hand. A heavy arm clamped around her chest, squeezing her arms against her side as she was dragged violently backwards.

* * *

"Damn it, McKay!" John yelled into his com, his eyes following Teyla as she moved through the smoke, her hands gripping a Valian pistol. "I said _disable _it, not _destroy _it!"

"As if I'd known it would do that!" Came Rodney's reply. "And I barely touched it! You're the one who said we needed a distraction!"

"Well next time, remind me to qualify my request with the _level_ of distraction!" John stared at the flaming wreck of the ship and shook his head.

"La-la-la can't hear you!" McKay shouted, P90 fire echoing through his radio. "Too busy shooting stuff!"

Leaning to the right, John sent out a short burst of fire, targeting two Valian guards who were holed up behind one of the warehouses. He quickly ducked back behind the tree as a chunk of bark blasted apart next to his shoulder. Peeking back around his heart skipped into his throat as Teyla landed abruptly against the side of the building, only a few feet from the two guards he was engaging.

"Shit!" With a burst of speed he lept out of the undergrowth, drawing their attention. Both Valians leaned around the corner, and with a staccato burst of fire, he dropped them into the dirt.

Teyla reacted in surprise, spinning towards him just as John reached the side of the building. His left arm shot out to grab her waist. He pulled her around the corner of the structure, moments before a trio of bullets embedded themselves into the wooden frame, directly in line with where she'd been standing moments before.

He pulled her down into a crouch, releasing her with reluctance.

"You okay?" He asked, his eyes quickly assessing her bare limbs, the cuts, the scrapes, the bruises, the blood. He felt a shocking stab of fury overlap the concern that was squeezing his heart.

"I am fine." She offered him a brief smile, wincing as she pulled the corner of her injured mouth where the guard hit her only moments ago. "And you… are late."

John's cocky response froze in his throat as he raised his thumb to swipe away the blood along the corner of her mouth.

She reached up and held his hand against her face, nodding once.

"John. I am fine." She repeated.

He blinked, shaking himself back into reality.

"Come on." He nodded. "Let's finish this."

Teyla quickly bent to retrieve the knife she knew he stored in his boot. Spinning it around in her palm, she held up pistol and angled her head, her eyebrow raised. "Shall we?"

John nodded, and with a quick glance, they dove out from behind the wall.

* * *

Dragged forcefully through the thickening trees, Jen struggled, her already injured feet protesting the speed of their movement. She could hear the sound of the battle fading in distance and in ferocity. It was going to be over soon, and she had a very, very good idea of who was going to win. She almost giggled, the fear that was seeping deeply through her mind making her giddy. Then her baby toe connected sharply with a tree root and she cursed the shock of pain shooting up her leg. Hopping briefly she stumbled and nearly fell, but was dragged roughly to her feet again and pulled forward, wincing as she stepped down on a sharp rock. She'd lost the scraps of material she'd used as makeshift slippers long ago, leaving her feet exposed to the roughness of the forest floor.

"Let me go!" She wriggled against the pointed dig of fingers in her upper arm, eyes glancing at the revolver that occasionally swung in her direction as a reminder of just who he thought was in charge.

But Jen knew differently.

Now that she'd realized just who was shooting at who.

"Enough." The Overseer ordered, his voice dangerously low. "You have caused me great loss, woman!"

"Good." She muttered, earning her a staggering stop as he yanked her around to face him.

"Do not anger me further," he snarled dangerously, his face inches from hers, the pistol hovering dangerously close to her face. "Or I will shoot you here and now."

Jen angled her head back, forcing her eyes away from the wavering barrel of the gun. She realized with a violent tremble that the man was fully and completely insane. She could see it in his eyes - the way the irises rolled around the whites as they failed to lock on anything for more than a second. His entire face was flushed and trickled with sweat, and she watched his adam's apple bobbing furiously up and down as he swallowed over and over.

"You are going to help me escape." His face inched closer. "Now move!"

He spun her around roughly shoving her forward, his fingers twisting sharply around the bare skin of her upper arm. She winced with a cry and grabbed his hand, pushing to ease the pinching pain.

He laughed.

"Where are you taking me?" She chanced to ask as he pulled her to a stop, spinning her in a dizzying circle as he scanned the trees around them.

"My men reported a ship coming through the ring." He nodded, still spinning around. "There are few places to land besides the camp. The river, the western clearing, the dale. We will find your ship and use it to return to the safety of my city. You will help me find it. Or you will die. Slowly. And painfully."

"Ship?" Jen squeaked, knowing better than to tell him the truth. He wouldn't find the jumper.

He shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth. "Where would they land?"

"I don't know!"

The pistol wobbled in his grip. "Where is it?!"

"I'm telling you, I don't know! How could I know? I wasn't there!" Her voice cracked when he raised the revolver to within inches of her face and she leaned as far away as she could within the painful grip of his hand.

"You will tell me." He cackled.

She shook her head, feeling the hopelessness of the situation creeping in through silence of the trees around her. He wanted the one thing she couldn't give him. Her body broke into a sheen of goosebumps at the deadened sound, and the hair on her arms rose with a violent shudder of realization that shot down her spine.

_Silence_.

Utter silence.

It was done.

The fighting was over.

The Overseer stiffened and spun around, dragging her roughly against him, the pistol still wavering next to her ear. Facing the trampled path they'd created through the underbrush he stared through the trees, waiting for something, anything to indicate the outcome.

The depth of the silence rang in her ears and stabbed directly into her soul. Not even the birds spoke. There were no sounds other than the light rustling of the leaves above their head in the summer breeze. She pulled against his arm, subconsciously needing to see to the wounded. To help. To make sure everyone was okay. She needed to get back there. To them. To him. She hadn't seen him in her brief view of the fight – but she knew he was there. He could be injured. Any of them could be injured. She needed to find him.

But the Overseer held her tightly, preventing her from leaving. Her mind screamed inside her skull. She was too far away to do any good. She was too far away for them to know where she was. She was too far away for rescue.

Her entire body trembled with the fear that this _wasn't_ over.

Rescue had come… but not yet for her.

She needed to tell them where she was. If she screamed he might shoot her. If she didn't, he _would_ shoot her. She couldn't chance either, but couldn't chance what would happen if she didn't.

Quickly filling her lungs with air, she braced for the pain that was surely to come with her scream. Something deep inside sensed the movement before her peripherals registered the sudden appearance of white to their right. With a skip in her heart she nearly burst into tears at the sight of the man standing a few feet from the Overseer.

"Release her." Ronon growled, his weapon pointed directly at the Overseer's right temple. "Or die."


	12. Chapter 12

Ronon stood next to the Overseer, his eyes never leaving the man's face. He couldn't afford to look any closer at Jennifer, with her fear so nakedly evident in her trembling limbs.

Cuts and bruises. Raw wounds along her wrists. Remnants of the chains still hooked tightly around her bare ankles. Blood staining the side of the all too short tunic. The way she limped, her bare feet raw and injured. The bruises on her arms. On her legs. When the memory flashed of the dead man in the warehouse he exhaled slowly, letting the fury pull him forward into the moment. He couldn't afford to look at her - if he did, he might not be able to look away.

Because he'd already seen it all while he followed them silently through the trees.

Seen it, heard it, committed it to memory for the nightmares that were sure to follow. Hers… and his. For the sight of the pistol being held against her head would stay with him for a very, very long time.

The man in the blue suit cackled, his voice dripping with insanity. Ronon knew this must be the Overseer. The one who'd made a deal with the Wraith. The one who'd arrested Jennifer and Teyla. The one who'd sent them here to this prison. The one who was about to pay with his life for what had been done to them both. To her. To all of them.

"You will not shoot me. I am the leader of the Valian people! You will call our two planets to war!"

"A war your people will lose." Ronon growled. "Now," he stepped forward. "Release her."

"You will not shoot me," the Overseer laughed, angling himself slowly to face Ronon, slyly stepping behind Jennifer. "You can not chance that I will not shoot her in the process. Fingers can be… twitchy things."

Ronon heard Jen's intake of breath as the Overseer dragged her against him, shielding his body with hers. They stepped back, Jennifer struggling to keep from stumbling. Ronon kept his weapon raised, his arm steady as he matched them step for step.

He needed to get the gun away from Jennifer's head.

He chanced a glance at her and fought against the agony that cut through him at the sight of her too pale skin, the dirt and scratches marring her face, fear widening her eyes.

"You _will_ die." Ronon announced, his gaze moving back to the red faced man.

"Perhaps." The Overseer giggled, caressing Jennifer's cheek with the barrel of the pistol. "Perhaps not."

He released his hold on Jennifer's upper arm, but quickly moved his arm tightly around her shoulders. She staggered back against his chest and Ronon watched as her fingers dug tightly into the arm that held her, her knuckles white, fingertips red and scabbed with dried blood.

"Drop your weapon" The overseer ordered, the barrel of the pistol wavering an inch from Jennifer's cheek. "Or I _will_ kill her. I have…" he smiled slowly, sickly. "Nothing left to lose."

Ronon hesitated. He couldn't take the chance the man wasn't going to just shoot her out of spite. He could take him easily, weapon or no, but not so long as the gun was against Jennifer's head. He lowered his weapon an inch.

"Ronon, no." Jen whispered, knowing that if Ronon dropped his gun, the Overseer would simply change his target from her… to him.

Ronon glanced quickly at her, his eyes cold and hard. Jen blinked against the fury she saw swirling beneath the depths and knew he was not about to compromise.

Yet what would he do, with her so obviously in the way?

They were at a stalemate.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled her spine straighter, the fear of knowing he'd just put _his_ life in danger clearing her mind with a sharpness that shocked her.

She couldn't let the Overseer shoot him.

But she didn't want the man to shoot her either.

Perhaps…

Ronon slowly pointed his gun at the ground, but did not release it.

The Overseer laughed with glee. "Drop it."

Jen slowly lowered her left hand, willing the tremble in her fingers to still long enough for her to finish. With her fingers just below the Overseer's arm, she prayed it was in a position that Ronon could see, but not the man who held her captive.

"Drop it!" The overseer ordered, shaking Jen, adjusting the barrel of the pistol higher up towards her temple. Jen could see the tremors in the man's hand and knew he wasn't going to be able to hold the gun against her forever. He could very easily jerk and shoot her here and now.

She took a deep breath and tucked her pinky and thumb together, praying Ronon could see the three fingers she held up. She stared into his eyes, point blank, willing him to understand. Willing him to trust her to do her part. Willing him to take the chance before it was too late.

Wiggling her left hand, and gripping the Overseer's arm with her right, she dropped her fingers one by one, keeping her count quick, but steady.

Three fingers.

Two fingers.

One finger.

Ronon dropped his weapon as she changed her hand into a fist.

The Overseer swung his pistol quickly away from Jen's face.

Jen picked up her feet and released her hold on the Overseer's arm, dropping her weight completely into her captor's grasp. The Overseer's body jerked forward and down as she dropped through his arm, landing hard on the ground at his feet.

The Overseer fired.

Jennifer shrieked.

But Ronon was already moving.

Arching his back away from the angle of the gun, his right hand shot over his shoulder to grasp the hilt of his sword. In one fluid flow of power he extracted it, spun tightly in a circle, and with a guttural shout, swung the blade in a blur of glinting metal.

Jen squeezed her eyes tightly closed as the headless body of the Overseer toppled over her and landed on the ground in front of her. His legs twitched where they lay across her hips and she gagged violently, struggling to free herself from the weight of the dead body. A telltale thump to her left announced the fall of his head in the ferns and she thought she was going to pass out.

Silence descended as her scream echoed and faded off into the distance.

The sickening weight on her lower body disappeared and warmth reached the skin of her cheek.

"It's over, Doc."

She opened her eyes, looking up into Ronon's face. He knelt on one knee beside her, palm on her cheek, gripping the hilt of his sword which stood straight and true, sticking out of the earth next to his raised knee.

Jen had a brief vision of a medieval knight and she felt herself giggling… then hitch in her breath quickly turned to tears as she reached for him, blind to everything but the man in front of her.

Ronon released the sword and grabbed for her, his arms wrapping around her small frame, wanting to hold her close, but afraid of holding too tightly. He was instantly concerned for any injuries she may have.

She clung to him, the heartbreaking sound of her soft sob muffled against the front of his shirt.

Releasing her, but only slightly, he brushed her hair away from her face. She opened her eyes and looked into his, a small smile tugging the corner of her mouth. She wiped at the tears staining her face but only managed to smear the dirt around her cheeks.

She was beautiful.

"Hi." She whispered.

Ronon smiled. "Hi."


	13. Chapter 13

"Is it over?" She asked hesitantly.

"It's over." He nodded, releasing her gently to re-sheath his sword, and holster his gun. He glanced quickly up and down her body, assessing her wounds as raw and painful, but nothing he could see was life threatening. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I um… yeah. I'm fine. I'll live."

His hand moved quickly to his ear as he dropped back to the ground beside her, his eyes locked on hers while he spoke. "Sheppard. I have the Doc." He paused, reaching out to tuck a tangled strand of hair behind her ear. It refused to stay and he smiled when she hiccupped a laugh. "Yeah, a little banged up but she's fine." Another pause, his head turning to the headless body of the blue suited man. "He's no longer a problem." He answered with conviction, then grinned at something Sheppard was saying. "I will. We'll be there shortly."

He smiled at Jen, gently tracing the side of her cheek with he back of his fingers.

"Sheppard said to tell you Teyla's fine, and there's no injured so you can relax. He did say to warn you McKay thinks he's going to be suffering from smoke inhalation by the time we get back."

She started to laugh then hissed and clutched her side.

"What is it?" He held her upright, his palm sliding down the arm that clutched her side, hovering over the hand that pressed tightly over her ribs.

She shook her head, exhaling slowly. "I'm just a, uh… a little sore. Well, okay. A _lot_ sore. I swear I hurt in places I didn't know a person could hurt." She rubbed the back of her head, wincing at the large bump. It was the first time she'd had to check her injury since Marlan's attack. She figured she had a mild concussion. Still, the lump was incredibly tender. "Next time maybe I should ask to be thrown onto a softer floor."

Ronon sat back on his heels, his hands releasing her quickly.

"What?" Jen asked, a crease across her forehead.

Ronon couldn't put words to the question that immediately stuck in his throat.

"What?" She asked again. "What is it? What's wrong?" Her eyes darted around him, looking quickly into the trees around them.

"Sheppard and I…" He shook his head, finding his voice. "We found the dead guard. The one in the warehouse. It was you, wasn't it? It was you he had in the room. Teyla ran in after you. "

Jen's felt the color leaving her face and she shuddered with the memory.

"Jennifer?" Ronon prompted. "Did he… " He couldn't say the words.

"No." She shook her head quickly. "He ah… tried? But Teyla stopped him. She... killed him."

Ronon exhaled, her answer releasing the knot of tension that burned his abdomen.

Jen suddenly felt the entire situation cresting over her piqued and battered emotions and she swayed. Riding the dizziness she reached for him, his arms quickly pulling her against the steadiness of his chest.

"Take me home, Ronon?" Her soft plea twisted his heart with agony. The desire to erase everything that happened, against knowing he could do nothing now but offer comfort, ate into his soul.

He simply nodded.

With a soft sigh she wrapped her arms around his neck as he stood, her head rolling where it rested against his shoulder. She was so light. So small. So undeniably brave.

"That was an interesting stunt you pulled back there." He said, stepping over a cluster of fallen branches as he carried her back towards the camp.

"I didn't know if it would work. I… um…" She rolled her head to look up at him. "I didn't know if you'd… understand what I was going to do."

"I understood." He eased them around a cluster of trees. "It was a very brave thing to do."

"Yeah, that's me." She muttered. "Brave."

He stopped, and glared down at her. "Surviving is not a weakness, Jennifer."

Jen blinked up at him, then nodded. "Okay."

"Okay." He answered, starting forward.

When they reached the camp, Jen would have been shocked to see the utter destruction that lay scattered about, the bodies of the dead Valian soldiers, the guarded survivors splayed spread eagle, face down in the dirt under the watchful P90 of Lieutenant Edison.

But as it was, she barely registered anything other than the fact that it was over.

Between the warmth and comfort in the rocking motion of Ronon's arms, the adrenaline crash of being rescued, and the injuries to her body, she could feel herself slipping. The pounding in the back of her skull throbbed, and her entire body felt as though she'd been run through a washing machine.

Major Lorne was talking with Colonel Sheppard, who sat shoulder to shoulder with Teyla on the steps of the bunkhouse. Teyla was slumped against Sheppard's body, her expression barely containing the exhaustion and ache she so obviously felt.

Evan stepped forward to meet them, concern etched across his features.

"Doc." He gave her a quick once over. "You look…"

"Like hell?" She muttered, mustering up part of a smile.

He grinned. "I was going to say, you look like you need a vacation from your vacation. It's good to have you back in one piece."

"It's good to _be_ in one piece." Jen smiled. Evan stepped aside and Ronon moved towards Sheppard.

When they approached, Teyla moved to stand but John stopped her with a fierce shake of his head and a tightening of his arm around shoulder.

"She okay?" Rodney interrupted, hurrying over to join them.

"_She's_ fine." Jen answered, earning her a mixed look of relief and concern from the scientist.

"Good." Rodney nodded quickly. "Good, because… well… that's just good."

Jen's head swam again and she closed her eyes against the dizziness. With a slow exhale she opened her eyes and raised her head to look at Teyla, a nod of understanding passing between them.

"Now can I?" Jen asked, her eyes quickly losing focus, blurring the Athosian's face along with everything else.

"Yes, Jennifer." Teyla smiled softly. "Now is safe."

"Now? Now, what?" John asked, glancing between the two women.

"Thank god." Jen exhaled.

"Hold her Ronon." Jen heard Teyla order.

As she gave into the quickly approaching darkness, Jen vaguely noted Ronon body instantly tense in response to Teyla's command. The painless draw of unconsciousness called to her and she answered, knowing she was once again safe within his arms. He would take her home.

Ronon inhaled sharply as Jennifer's body dropped completely limp against him, her arms releasing their light hold on his neck to hang loosely in the air. He shifted her head against his shoulder.

With a muttered exclamation, Evan shoved is P90 at McKay and quickly shucked his TAC vest. He pulled at the buttons to release his shirt. Yanking it over his shoulders he gently tucked Jennifer's limply hanging arm up onto her chest and draped his shirt over the front of her body, tucking it in around her.

Ronon nodded his thanks and Evan stooped to grab his vest, quickly settling it back down over his t-shirt, and accepting his P90 from Rodney.

"We need to get her back to the infirmary." Teyla spoke up.

John nodded. "We need to get you _both_ back to the infirmary. Jumpers 2 and 3 should be here shortly with reinforcements and a med team. They'll get the other women back to the gate, and patch up any injuries."

"Sanchez should be here any minute with your ride." The Major informed Ronon. "There should be room to land next to the husk there." He pointed to the smoldering shell of the Overseer's ship as the jumper uncloaked above the wreckage.

"Perfect timing." John nodded. "Major, you'll see to the clean up?"

Evan nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Have the surviving guards escorted to one of the local villages." John ordered. "Be sure to explain to the villagers, in full detail, what's been going on down here."

Evan smiled, but it was anything but amused. "With pleasure."

"McKay." John turned to Rodney. "I need you to stay and give the Major a hand."

"Give them a… Who? Me?"

John made a face. "Just do it Rodney. Those women need our help, and I want the other fences disarmed and destroyed. _Completely_ destroyed. I don't want anyone else using these facilities."

"Yes, right. Of course." Rodney looked momentarily chagrined before turning to Evan, sweeping his arm out in front of his chest. "Lead on, Major."

"And Major?" John called, and Evan turned around. "Leave nothing standing."

"Understood." Evan nodded, a slow smile crossing his face.

As Evan and Rodney moved away to help release the women from their shackles, John turned to Teyla. "Shall we?"

She nodded. "Please."

Ronon turned and walked towards the open hatch of the jumper, his passenger tightly cradled against his chest.

As Teyla moved to stand, John bent and quickly scooped her up into his arms.

"John!" Teyla muttered, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I am perfectly capable of walking."

"Not on those feet you're not." He followed after Ronon. "Besides, can't let him have all the fun. Carrying the damsel in distress and all."

"Damsel in distress?" Teyla eyed him warily.

"Humor me." John grinned.

Teyla shook her head. "Very well. But I believe this means you owe me one?"

"What, you're going to carry me next time?"

"Perhaps." She laughed.

"I'm looking forward to it." John smirked.

"I bet you are." She answered.


	14. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

The city was dark and silent with the early morning hour, the quiet and stillness reflected through to the back corner of the infirmary. The two lone occupants moved restlessly, unable to sleep.

Jen had issues with the fact that she was actually in the infirmary to begin with, and Teyla had issues that Jen wasn't currently in charge to discharge them both.

Mr. Woolsey had refused to let Jen's authority stand for another twenty-four hours. He'd also ordered everyone to remain out of the infirmary save for staff. And that everyone was to specifically include Ronon, John, Rodney, and Evan.

Jen sighed, the slow gurgle in her stomach echoing loudly through the quiet room. She stifled a giggle.

"I agree." Teyla rolled over, staring at her from the other bed. "I am… starving."

Jen rolled onto her side, sitting up, swinging her bandaged feet over the side of the bed.

Teyla raised an eyebrow as Jen slid quietly onto the floor.

"Mr. Woolsey ordered everyone to leave. Technically," she paused. "He didn't order us to stay."

Teyla grinned and whipped off the blankets, sitting up and quickly joining Jen on the floor. "Do you think there will be any potato salad left?"

Jen smiled, glancing quickly over her shoulder at the night nurse, confirming that they were unobserved as they snuck out the back side of the infirmary.

"I'm hoping for some of that berry desert with that chocolate syrup." Jen's mouth watered.

"Oh yes." Teyla nodded quickly. "That too."

Their bandaged feet were silent in the corridors, the only drawback was the incredibly slippery effect of having cloth on the polished floors. Trying to avoid being seen, they stayed away from the main corridors, making the trek to the cafeteria twice as long, and twice as funny as they slid along the hallways.

They reached the empty cafeteria, quickly filling their trays with an eclectic mix of snacks and treats. Deciding to use a dark corner of the balcony, they hoarded their bounty onto the table.

Somewhere between a story of Torren spitting up on Mr. Woolsey, and one of Rodney's recently bizarre ailments, they found themselves seated on the floor at the far end of the balcony. Half asleep in the warm summer breeze with overly full stomachs, they both yawned.

"We should probably go back." Jen smiled.

"Yes, you should." Ronon growled from the doors of the balcony.

"Playing hooky?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to report us?" Jen smiled, sliding over to make room for Ronon to sit beside her.

"No." John lowered himself down beside Teyla, stretching out his legs along side hers. "As long as you promise to behave."

"I will make no such promises." Teyla smiled.

Jen laughed, then quickly covered another yawn.

"You should be resting." Ronon chastised.

"I was hungry." Jen shrugged.

"You've been hanging around Ronon too long, Doc." John smiled. "That's his line."

Jen smiled up at Ronon. "Maybe he's starting to rub off on me."

"Just so long as you don't take up fighting." John laughed then groaned when Teyla backhanded him across the chest.

"And what is wrong with fighting?" Teyla angled her head.

"Nothing." John answered quickly, rubbing his chest. "I was merely trying to point out that if the Doc here takes up fighting, you guys aren't going to need us to come rescue you next time. It would be a huge blow to Ronon's ego."

"Next time?" Ronon frowned. "What ego?"

"Oh, don't worry, John." Jen reached over and patted his arm. "You can still come rescue me any time."

Ronon growled.

Jen flushed, glancing quickly at Ronon. "I mean… I didn't meant… Well… you know what I meant."

"No." John made a face. "I don't. Do tell, Doc."

Teyla hit him again.

"Ow!" John exclaimed.

"I think I'm going back to bed." Jen muttered, moving to stand up, but Ronon held her down.

"Actually, I think I'd like the answer to that question too." He looked down at Jen.

"What question?" Jen played innocent.

"Remember," John drew circles around his ear in the air beside his head. "She hit her head. Nasty things those head injuries. Memory loss. Insanity. Terrible. Just terrible."

"I do not have a head injury!" Jen exclaimed.

"Then you really were hitting on me?" John wiggled his eyebrows.

"No! I… no… I did not… I was just…" Jen looked frantically at Teyla. "A little help here?"

"I think you are doing just fine." Teyla smiled. "Even with the head injury."

"I do not have a head injury!" Jen's voice echoed off the balcony, followed by their laughter, as the city continued its silent sleep around them.

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_**Author's Note** - And there you have it. Hope you all enjoyed this one - and many thanks for the great reviews, and the plot bunnies! Hopefully the death of the Overseer wasn't too over the top. :) And now, fair readers, it's 2am and I'm off to bed. :) A good night to you all! - Nika_


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